Metro
by Insomniac Owl
Summary: He bought a subway ticket, and now it feels as if the world is waiting. [AU Sasuke centric]


**Metro**

_By Insomniac Owl_

-

The only things he owns are a pocketful of cash and a few dreams. No home anymore, no family, but it hardly matters. There is a one-way ticket to Tokyo in his back pocket, printed to Sasuke Uchiha, and that's enough. The next stop is his.

Overhead, the subway lights are flickering, sending the whole car into a queer sort of half light, where the only things he can really see are the metal surfaces. The seats rock to the steady clank of subway wheels, and he absently feels for the bag beside him, making sure it's still there. The other hand is shoved deep in his pocket, his fingers entwined with a stray thread.

_("I want a one-way ticket out of here_."

"_Where to?"_

"_I don't know…Tokyo_. _Take me to Tokyo_."

Shortly after he left his hometown (the name of it doesn't even matter - he's never going back) it hit him that this was truly freedom. Even here, on this dingy subway, he has to answer to no one. He can do whatever he wants whenever he pleases, as long as he has the money. And that was what he was after, what he'd hoped to achieve by leaving.

It's a little scary, he supposes, striking out on his own like this, but he's nearly of age. Nearly, of course - he'll be eighteen in July and it's December. He can rent a hotel though. He can get a job. He can't drink yet, but that milestone is coming quickly too. He's going to Tokyo; he can probably find someone who doesn't care if an underage kid orders alcohol anyway.

He shivers a bit, hugging his jacket closer. It's not so much from the cold as it is anticipation. Tokyo is a fast-paced city filled with lights and skyscrapers and businessmen - so much different from his hometown. His guardian called his town naively peaceful. And it was boring as hell.

After his parents died in a car accident he and his brother were sent to foster homes, and it was partially due to that arrangement that made time blur. Days unfolded like old attic suits, and they all looked exactly alike. He hasn't seen his brother for nine years. But who knows, right? Tokyo is one of the most populous cities in Japan - maybe Itachi will be there.

Sasuke can't help but snicker. The chances of that happening are razor-blade slim, and he can hardly believe he's allowing himself to think that way. He lays his head against the window behind him, staring out into blackness. But, then again, today anything is possible. Today he is filled with happiness and a buzzing excitement, and he feels as if there is nothing more in the world he could possibly want. It's almost funny really - he spent 20,000 yen on a subway ticket and he feels like the world is waiting.

The lights go out completely, then flicker back to life brighter than ever before as if attempting to make up for lost time. In the new light he can see details that were lost previously. The scuffed flooring, the colored wads of gum stuck beneath the seats opposite. The fact that it's snowing outside.

The white specks fall flurry-fast through the air, appearing to move more quickly than they are because of the train's speed. Six-sided blessings, sacrificing themselves to puddles. He can already feel the rain beginning to slow, and, as it does, so do the snowflakes. He shifts so that he is facing outward, able to see them - and the city lights not too far beyond.

Tokyo is just like the postcards; skyscrapers and shops together in one glorious starlit jumble.

It is 12:01 when the subway pulls into the station, Sasuke having watched its approach for miles now. He can't subdue the excitement rising in his chest, but he forces himself to stay seated until the doors slide open. Only then does he allow himself to gather his things and stand, taking one last look out the window.

The city looks as promising as ever.

Outside where there are no walls to protects him, the weather is wild. Snow whips around him on heavy winds, and he knows the speed he saw from the window was not entirely for show. He pauses outside nonetheless, just long enough to glance into the sky. It's a myriad of snow and stars, and he can hardly tell the difference. He grins, hitching his bag a bit higher on his shoulder.

It is winter.

Life is waiting.

**finis**


End file.
